Fragile Lives
by Carol
Summary: A powerful earthquake rips through San Diego, leaving the under-funded five injured and trapped in the Agency. Will they get out alive?
1. Default Chapter

Fragile Lives (1/?)

By Carol M.

Summary: A powerful earthquake rips through San Diego, leaving the under-funded five injured and trapped in the Agency. Will they get out alive?

Spoilers: nothing I can think of

Rating: PG-13 for violence

Disclaimer: Don't own them, only love them

Note: So here's the disaster fic I promised. I feel like the Irwin Allen of I-man fan fic. First a plane crash and now an earthquake. Maybe next time I'll tackle a sinking ship : ) As always, keep the ropes handy. Hope you enjoy! And P.S., can't wait to see Mere Mortals!

As an old teacher once told me, "A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out." Now I agree with that completely, but I think my old friend Winnie the Pooh said it best when he said to one of his many friends, "If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you." Truer words were never spoken.

The body of Darien Fawkes was nestled comfortably in his queen-sized bed under a thick gray bedspread that was pulled to the middle of his bare chest. He lay on his side, hugging a pillow tightly against his body as if it was a teddy bear or maybe a substitution for a real person. The comforter and pillow rose and fell every few seconds as he breathed, each breath ending in a slightly muffled snore. 

His brown hair was still slightly spiky, even after a night of being crushed in a sea of blankets and pillows. His eyes were closed and his face was mashed against another pillow, a line of crusted drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. His face was relaxed and full of innocence, making him look like he was about ten years old.

The sight of his partner was peaceful and slightly adorable, and it was annoying the hell out of Bobby Hobbes. "Fawkes!" he yelled for the hundredth time. Bobby muttered a curse and began shaking Darien's sleeping form. "Come on kid, sweet dreams are over," he yelled an inch away from Darien's ear.

Darien jumped awake, his eyes opening into tiny surprised slits. "Whaaaa?" he said.

"Get out of bed, Fawkes, we've got a meet with a snitch from Hobbesnet," said Bobby.

Darien opened his eyes and looked up at him curiously. "How'd you get in here?" he mumbled, his head falling back against the pillow.

Bobby grabbed his shoulders and forced him into a sitting position. "I picked your lock. I've been pounding on your door for the last 20 minutes. The end of the freakin world could come and you would sleep right through it."

Darien glanced at his clock and his eyes widened in disbelief when he saw the red numbers of 5:30 a.m. reflecting back at him. "Go away, I'm going back to bed," he whined as he tried to shrug out of Bobby's firm grasp.

"Sorry, no can do. We got places to go and people to see, my friend," said Bobby firmly. "Get up and get dressed."

Darien gave Bobby a look of death. "You're a cruel, cruel little man," said Darien as he finally struggled out of Bobby's strong grip and stood up.

"Yeah, and don't you forget it," said Bobby as he stepped aside and walked to the kitchen to make some coffee.

"I'm gonna take a shower," said Darien as he shuffled towards the bathroom.

"Better make it a fast one there, partner," said Bobby. "Golda departs at 0600 hours."

"Aye, aye Captain Hobbes," said Darien sarcastically as he mocked saluted Bobby. He stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door loudly behind him.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," said Bobby as he filled Darien's coffeepot with water and went in search of coffee filters.

In the bathroom, Darien stared at his blurry reflection in the mirror and wiped out his sleep-filled eyes. Then he sluggishly picked up his toothbrush and toothpaste and began brushing his teeth. He was about to spit out the toothpaste when he heard a crash from the kitchen. He quickly opened the door and looked out, his mouth still full of toothpaste. "Don't break anything, Hobbesy," he said, toothpaste spraying all over his chest.

Bobby stuck his head up from behind the counter and sighed in disgust. "Maybe if certain partners I know would keep their coffee filters on the counter like a normal person and not in the back of a pantry filled with pots, I wouldn't have had to rearrange your entire kitchen."

Darien smiled and shook his head. He shut the door of the bathroom and spit out the toothpaste into the sink. Then he peeled off his sweatpants and underwear and slid the door open to his brand new shower. He turned the water on and admired the shiny glass handiwork of the door while the water got hot. 

After several seconds, steam began coming off the water and Darien stepped inside the shower, sliding the glass door closed. He leaned his head down and let the hot water soak through his spiky locks, the water flattening them against his head. He reached for the bottle of his favorite shampoo and squeezed a dollop into his hand. Then he lovingly caressed it through his hair, making sure that each follicle was treated to the exquisite formula of vitamins and minerals. He rinsed and then stood lazily under the shower, the hot water doing nothing to wake him up. His eyes slowly drifted shut and he leaned his head against the glass shower door, wanting to go back to sleep right there.

Out of nowhere, a harsh shaking and a loud rumbling noise ripped through the room, causing Darien to loose his footing. His eyes shot open and he tried to grab onto something to catch his balance, but it was too late. His lanky body crashed through the glass door, coming to rest harshly against the tile floor of the bathroom.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Bobby was just about to pour the coffee when the shaking hit. He set down the coffeepot and steadied himself against the counter as all of Darien's dishes went crashing to the ground. A particularly large jolt managed to knock over the coffeepot, spilling hot coffee all over the counter and Bobby's hand. 

"Ow," yelled Bobby as he snatched his hand up from the counter. 

After several more seconds, the shaking stopped and everything was once again still and quiet, 

with the exception of a few car alarms going off somewhere outside.

Bobby rubbed his hand and sighed when he saw the mess Darien's kitchen had become. He unplugged the damaged coffeemaker and then started towards the bathroom to check on Darien. "Fawkes, you okay?" he asked as he stepped up towards the door.

"Um, sort of," he heard from inside.

Bobby opened the door and promptly shut his eyes when he saw Darien's naked body sprawled across the floor. "Oh god, give a guy some warning when you're laying there in your birthday suit."

Darien rolled his eyes and tried to move without cutting his body to tatters. "Sorry, next time I'll put some clothes on before I fall through the shower door," he said sarcastically. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs out of his brain. "Was that what I think it was?"

"Yep. Earthquake, my friend," answered Bobby as he opened his eyes into tiny slits and tried to ignore the bare bottom that was staring up at him. Instead he tried to see if Darien was seriously injured. He could see a small pool of blood forming underneath Darien's right shoulder and another one under his chest. "Damn it, Fawkes, only you could get injured in the shower," said Bobby he stepped further into the bathroom and reached for some towels. 

He lifted Darien up slightly and placed one under his chest. Then he gently pulled up his right shoulder and wrapped a towel around it. Finally, he took another towel and draped it across Darien's naked torso. "You got any more holes?" asked Bobby with concern as he tried to survey for more damage.

Darien shook his head and looked up dizzily at Bobby. "Don't think so. Get me some clothes, okay?"

Bobby saw the slightly glassy look in Darien's eye and gave him a soft slap on the cheek. "Don't pass out of me. I don't wan have to carry your naked ass to the van."

"S' okay, I'm okay," he mumbled as he let his head drop down to the floor.

Bobby gave his partner a worried glance and then walked briskly out of the bathroom to Darien's dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans, some briefs, socks and a white shirt. He made a quick trip to the closet to grab some shoes and then returned to the bathroom, setting the clothes next to Darien. He eyed the jagged pieces of glass all over the bathroom and shook his head. "I told you a glass shower was a bad idea, pal," said Bobby.

Darien opened his eyes and slowly began to sit up, trying to avoid all the glass scattered across the floor. "Let me get dressed," he said, reaching for the clothes Bobby had picked out.

"You need any help?" asked Bobby with a look that said he would rather shoot himself in the foot.

Darien smiled and shook his head. "No buddy, I think I can manage. Been doing it on my own for a few years now."

"Right," said Bobby. "Yell if you need anything," said Bobby as he stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number to the Keep. After a few seconds, Claire answered, sounding out of breath. "Keep, you okay?" he asked with tender concern.

"I'm fine, are you all right?" an English accented voice said over the phone line.

"I'm okay, Fawkes got a little banged up though. I'm bringing him over as soon as he gets dressed," he said into the phone. "How's the Keep? Any damage?"

"No, not much, just a few broken vials and some broken equipment. I'm about to go secure the counteragent and all the ingredients in a vault in the basement in case there's another quake," said Claire.

Bobby unconsciously nodded his head. "Sounds like a good idea to me. Having a red eye Fawkes running around is not my idea of a good time."

"Yeah. He just got a shot yesterday so we should be safe," said Claire over the phone.

"Yeah," said Bobby. He cleared his throat. "I'm glad you weren't hurt, Claire," he said softly.

He could almost hear her smiling over the phone. "I'm glad you're okay too, Bobby. Get Darien here safely."

"Will do, Keep. See ya in a few minutes," he said as he hung up the phone.

He walked back to the bathroom door and knocked again. "Fawkes, you okay in there?" he said.

The bathroom door opened and Darien emerged wearing jeans and shoes and socks, with the white shirt draped over his arm. He held the towel Bobby had given him firmly against his chest and the other towel was still wrapped awkwardly around his shoulder. He stumbled out into the living room and started to sway.

"Whoa, buddy, I got ya," said Bobby as he grasped both of Darien's arms to steady him. "Looks like you decided to donate some blood to your bathroom floor," he said as he looked into the bathroom and saw several large bloodstains.

"What can I say, I'm a generous kind of guy," said Darien as he let Bobby help him towards the door. He looked over at his partner and checked him over. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Bobby nodded and pushed him out the door, trying to block the view of the messy kitchen. "Fine, just a little spilled coffee is all. Let's get you to the van, partner."

"What about the snitch?" asked Darien weakly.

"The snitch can wait. We need to get you to the Keep," said Bobby worriedly as he tried to ignore the blood soaked towels pressed against Darien's body.

"No arguments here," he said as he shakily started walking down the hallway with Bobby's assistance. "I hate earthquakes," he added softly.

But what he didn't know was that a much more powerful one was waiting right around the corner. 

TBC


	2. Part 2

Fragile Lives (2/?)

By Carol M.

See first part for details.

Hang on to your hats folks, it's about to get bumpy! Literally…

Claire loaded several vials of chemicals into secure compartments specially built into the shiny metal safe quickly, eager to get back to the Keep to see if Darien and Bobby had arrived. She took another bag filled with equipment and placed it into its own compartment in the safe as well. Finally, she took a syringe that she had just filled with counteragent and tucked it into the last compartment. Just in case, she said to herself.

She shut the safe door and turned the dial, effectively locking it. Then she walked briskly out of the room and headed towards the elevator. She pressed the up button and waited patiently for the elevator to come down to the basement that was two floors underground. It arrived about 30 seconds later and she stepped in, pressing the ground floor button to get back up to the Keep. She noticed the Muzak that normally polluted the ears in the elevator wasn't playing and she breathed a silent thank you. At least one good thing had come out of the small quake.

The doors opened on the ground floor several seconds later and she stepped out just in time to see Bobby hauling Darien in the direction of the Keep. She quickly ran to catch up.

"Guys," she yelled as she came up behind them.

They both turned around and she saw the blood that was free flowing down Darien's chest and arm. "Bloody hell," she said as she examined the wounds.

"My sentiments exactly," said Darien sarcastically.

"Let's get him inside," said Claire as she helped Bobby get Darien into the Keep. Once inside, they tried to avoid the broken glass and equipment on the floor from the quake and finally got him into a semi-comfortable position in the counteragent chair.

Claire went in search of some supplies, while Bobby kept an eye on his partner.

"Nothing like an earthquake to start your day," said Darien as he pressed the towel he had brought from home firmly against his chest.

"That was nothing, my friend. Just a little bump," said Bobby.

"Come on, Hobbes, that was some pretty scary stuff. One minute I'm standing up, and the next minute I'm flat on my ass," said Darien.

"I'm telling you, that was just a prelude. The big one's around the corner, I can just smell it," said Bobby as he watched Claire come back to Darien's side with an armful of bandages, antiseptic and a needle and thread.

"Oh and you know this how?" asked Darien, wincing as Claire removed the towels and began cleaning his cuts.

"Cause I can sense these things," said Bobby matter of factly.

"Oh really. Someone from Hobbes net have a connection with Mother Nature or what?" asked Darien.

"It's a gift, Fawkes. I just know," said Bobby.

"Actually Darien, some animals can sense when a forceful act of nature is coming. Dogs often start barking and birds tend to fly away several seconds before nature strikes," said Claire as she began stitching up his wounds.

"Owww," yelped Darien. "Hmmm, a dog, that's sounds about right. We've got our very own bloodhound right here at BWM," said Darien as he gave Bobby a teasing glance.

"Funny Fawkes, funny. See if I save your bleeding ass next time you decide to do a tango with your shower door," said Bobby.

Darien was about to respond with another witty comment when the Keep door opened, revealing the Official and Eberts. 

"What's going on here?" asked the Official as he saw Darien laid out on the counteragent chair.

"Run in with a shower door," said Bobby.

"Is everything okay down here, doctor?" asked the Official.

Claire nodded. "Yes, sir, no major damage. I secured the counteragent in the basement. Darien has a few minor cuts. He just needs to rest for a little bit," said Claire as she finished bandaging up the cuts and gave Darien a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Good, good," said the Official as he turned to look at Bobby. "Something's come up. I need to get copies of all the notes and files you can have on the Meyer case."

"Meyer case, chief?" asked Bobby.

"Yeah, they got some evidence that might get the bastard off. I want to make sure that doesn't happen," said the Official.

"No problem, sir. I got the stuff in my office," said Bobby as he came nose to nose with Eberts. "What are you looking at Eberts?"

"Nothing, Robert," said Eberts.

"Guys, can you cut that crap out, it's getting old," said Darien from the chair as he carefully put on the white shirt he had brought from home.

Claire smiled and looked at the two of them with amusement.

"Whatever you say, ole' wise one," said Bobby as he glanced at Claire. "Is he gonna make it? Can I leave him for a few minutes while I get those files?" asked Bobby.

Claire nodded. "He'll be fine. I'll look after him."

"Okay. Hang in there, Fawkes. Try not to get injured in the chair," said Bobby as he headed towards the door with the Official and Eberts following behind.

"Ha ha," mocked Darien.

The Official, Eberts and Bobby headed out the door and started for the elevator.

"I don't know about this, sir. Maybe we should take the stairs. Mother Nature was playing a mean game of Yahtze only a couple of minutes ago. She might want another turn," said Bobby.

The Official gave him a sharp look that said he wasn't about to walk up a flight of stairs.

"Or we can take the elevator," said Bobby as he pressed the up button.

The trio waited in silence until the elevator button beeped and the door opened. Bobby pressed the 2nd floor and the 5th floor button. "I'll get that stuff and I'll bring it down to you, chief."

"Good," said the Official with a satisfied smile. "If we can nail these bastards, we might get additional funding for next year."

"Validated parking? Paid vacations?" asked Bobby with excitement.

"More like a new office and a raise for me," said the Official.

Eberts cleared his throat. "And Eberts, of course," added the Official.

Bobby nodded in disgust and sighed as the elevator stopped at the second floor. The Official and Eberts both stepped out. "On second thought, maybe I'll keep the info for myself," said Bobby.

"Don't even think about it, Bobby," said the Official.

Bobby nodded and smirked as the elevator door closed. The elevator rose up to the third floor and was almost halfway up the 4th floor when a forceful wave of shaking ten times worse then before tore through the elevator. 

The force knocked Bobby off his feet, causing him to land with a hard thud against the elevator floor. The elevator shook with so much force that he was sure the elevator would come off the hinges. 

I knew I should have taken the stairs, thought Bobby as an overhead panel crashed down and knocked him on the head. He passed out several seconds later.

Back on the second floor, the Official and Eberts were making their way back to the Official's office when the floor seemed to open up. The shaking tore through the halls, causing bits of wall and ceiling to crash against the floor. 

"Sir!" Eberts cried in a panic. 

The Official looked at him with scared eyes and they both tried to make to a door jam, but the shaking was too hard. They were both knocked off their feet and forced to the ground. The Official slammed his head against a wall and slumped into unconsciousness.

Eberts made it to the floor, but was nearly drowned in a sea of debris raining down from the ceiling. He cried out once and then his body lay still against the floor.

Down in the Keep, Darien was about to drift off into a dizzy sleep when the room started to shake violently. "Claire!" he yelled as he saw Claire standing near the refrigerator struggling to stay on her feet.

Bricks were falling from overhead, smashing into the computers and crashing through the equipment. "Darien!" she screamed as she tried to avoid being pelted by debris and at the same time, keep her footing.

Darien quickly got off the chair and dived towards Claire, taking her down to the floor and shielding her from the debris with his body. More bricks and glass started rain down on them from all sides. 

Claire reached back for Darien's hand and squeezed it, too scared to muster the energy to speak. She watched in horror as her lab was systematically destroyed by the force of the tremors. Several bricks rained down on them at once, and she heard Darien gasp and moan above her. Then she felt the weight of his body sag against her. Claire struggled to stay calm, but found it was nearly impossible. And then she too passed out, as the constant shaking and shock proved to be too much for her to handle.

The violent tremors continued for nearly a minute, the sound deafening. The sound of a nightmare. And then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped, leaving a terrible quiet to wash through the floors of the mangled agency.

TBC


	3. Part 3

Fragile Lives (3/?)

By Carol M.

See first part for details.

Thanks for the feedback guys!! On with the story..

Claire opened her eyes slowly, not exactly sure where she was or what had happened. Her vision was blurry for a few seconds until she shook off the cobwebs. Then everything became horribly clear.

She was in the Keep, or more accurately, what was left of the Keep. It was a complete disaster. The glass separator was smashed and lying on the floor amongst a pile of sparkling glass. The computers were lying half-mangled on the floor with bits of glass and plastic scattered everywhere. The fish tank was also destroyed, leaving her prized fish lying motionless on the floor. Most of the equipment had been smashed and destroyed as well.

She realized with a start that a large shadow was looming overhead. She looked up and saw that the refrigerator was on its last legs, literally. The only thing keeping it in place was a thick black cord that would probably not hold for much longer.

That was when she realized a heavy weight was holding her to the ground. Her mind tried to place the offending presence and her heart leapt when she realized what or rather, who it was. "Darien!" she cried out, trying to shift her body out from under him.

A ragged moan escaped from Darien's lips, but nothing else. Claire finally got her body free and began to examine the limp body of her Kept. 

A sudden squeaking sound told her the refrigerator was not happy in its current position. "Darien, we have to move," she said urgently as she tried to shove his body out the way.

"Ughhhh," was all that came from Darien.

"Damn it, help me," she urged as she tried to take all of his weight. The refrigerator was slowly jerking down towards them as the cord loosened from its hold. In a matter of seconds, it came completely loose, forcing Claire to roughly shove Darien and herself out the way. The refrigerator exploded into bits of glass and chemicals, spraying both of their faces and hair.

Claire lay in a heap next to Darien, trying to calm her rattled nerves. After a few seconds, she recovered and sat up, trying to detect any obvious wounds on Darien. She carefully turned him over, noticing much to her chagrin that both of his cuts had opened back and were bleeding freely. She muttered a curse and then ran her hands down his chest and stomach, trying to detect any wounds. When she curved her hand around his lower right side and pressed firmly, she was rewarded with a harsh whimper out of Darien.

"What hurts?" she asked with concern. "Your side?"

Darien opened his eyes into tiny pain-filled slits and shook his head. "My back, lower back," he panted.

She gently rolled him onto his stomach and lifted up his shirt. What she saw didn't please her. He had a deeply flushed red mark on his left side, right over the kidney. It was in the shape of a rectangle and as she looked at all the bricks lying beside them, she determined that's what had caused the injury. She pressed against the wound and Darien moaned, trying to flinch away from the touch.

"Hurts," he murmured.

"I know, I know," she soothed gently. "I just have to see if you're bleeding internally."

She continued to press down on the wound despite Darien's protests and found it to be tender, but not rigid, at least not at the moment. "Thank god," she muttered under breath. She gave the area a soft caress and then put his shirt back down. She checked the rest of his back and found another cut, this one just below his neck. "Anything else hurt?" she asked.

Darien responded by shaking his head. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

Claire looked down at her body and was surprised when she didn't find anything more then a few minor cuts and bruises. "Yeah. Thanks to you," she said as she scooted up towards his head and ran a hand through his debris-filled hair. "You saved me."

"Can't have my Keeper getting hurt now, can I?" he said weakly. He sat up slowly, using Claire as support. "We have to get out of here and find Bobby and the others," he said as he looked around and surveyed the damage. 

Claire shook her head. "No Darien, we have to get you out of here. You're in no condition to go searching through the building for everyone."

Darien gave her a sharp look. "I'm not leaving this place without Hobbes," he said firmly.

Claire sighed and nodded. "Darien," she said in a huffy tone.

He flashed her the brown puppies and shook his head.

"Fine, I can't force you out of the building. But let me take care of some your cuts first," she said as she got up and tried to find some bandages amongst the mess.

Darien leaned his head down in between his legs, trying to combat the nauseous feeling building in his stomach and ignore the waves of pain shooting through his back. He took in deep breaths, fighting the urge to pass out on the floor.

After a few minutes, Claire returned to his side and began bandaging his cuts. He leaned his head against her and let her take some of his weight, too exhausted to keep himself upright.

"Darien, look at you, you can barely sit up by yourself. You're not going to make it," said Claire with worry as she finished bandaging his cuts. "I'm getting you out of here."

Darien shook his head and held out his hand. "Help me up, sister," he said through clenched teeth. Claire stood up and then reached for his hand, pulling Darien up to a standing position. He nearly fell over as the pain became too much for him to bear. He sagged against Claire and nearly took them both to the ground.

"Hold on, I got you, Darien," said Claire gently as she wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gently wrapped her own arm around his waist.

"Thanks," he said softly. They shuffled toward the Keep door, glass crunching under their feet. When they reached the door, Darien stopped and sighed in frustration. "Obstacle number one. How the hell are we going to get the door open? Is the fuse box still working?"

Claire brought him a few steps closer towards the door and leaned him against the wall. Then she went to the box and pressed the button, hoping like hell the door would magically open. But unfortunately, it didn't. "Earthquake must have screwed up the power source," she said in frustration.

Darien slowly walked over to the box on shaky feet and started to mess with it. He tore open the box and pulled out some wires. Then he connected a blue wire with a red wire, producing a spark that burned his fingers. "Oww," he yelled as the Keep door slid open and stayed open. He gave Claire a satisfied grin. "Just like hot wiring a car," he said. "I guess my former life as a menace to society paid off."

Claire smiled and grabbed his arm, walking him out of the Keep. They both stopped short when they realized the only way out of the building was buried in brick and concrete.

"Great. So we rescue everyone and then get stuck down here for all eternity," he said sarcastically.

Claire rolled her eyes and leaned him against a wall for a few seconds. She ran down the hall and tried to loosen some of the debris covering the door. "We're stuck," she said after several minutes of trying to clear the debris with no success.

"What about the stairwell?" he asked.

She ran to the stairwell door and was pleased when some of the rocks covering it moved easily. She managed to clear away the debris in a few seconds and opened the door.

"Nice," said Darien.

Claire walked back over to him and once again took his body into her arms. She slowly walked him to the door. "You sure about this? I can go up by myself and see if everyone's okay."

"No, we need to stay together. Don't need a freakin aftershock separating us," he answered.

"Right," she said as she got him through the door.

He pointed upwards. "Let's get a move on. Times a wasting," he said as they slowly started to make their way up the debris-covered stairs.

**

Eberts awoke with a soft groan and a splitting headache. He sat up and was hit with a cloud of dust as bits of ceiling and wall fell off his body. His throat began to ache and he coughed harshly. He managed to get all the debris off of his body and leaned up against the wall, breathing heavily. "Sir?" he called out.

There was no answer. He looked at the position he had last seen the Official and saw a leg sticking out from a pile of ceiling. "Sir!" he yelled as he crawled over to his position. He carefully lifted the light debris off his boss and winced when he saw the Official's face. A large bleeding bump covered the entire right side of his forehead. 

Eberts began shaking the Official. "Sir, wake up! Wake up!" he yelled with desperation.

The Official didn't stir, his face seeming to grow paler by the second.

Eberts took off his jacket and pulled at his shirt, ripping off a piece of fabric. He placed the fabric firmly against the Official's wound. When he was finished, he took a deep breath and looked down both sides of the hall for possible escape routes. He saw that all the doors were covered in debris, leaving them no possible exits. 

Tears filled his eyes, and he brought the Official's body towards his lap, giving his shoulder a comforting pat. "I'm here, sir. I won't leave you," he said softly.

**

Bobby awoke with a start and a scare. For a terrifying moment he thought he was blind, until he realized that blood had leaked into his eyes from a pounding head wound. He wiped out his burning eyes and shook his head, trying to remember what had happened. When he looked up and saw the flickering lights of the elevator, his stomach sank into the ground.

He experimentally began to stand up amongst a mountain of debris and was rewarded with a harsh wave of pain through his leg and a bout of seasickness. If that wasn't bad enough, he realized much to his horror that the elevator was hanging at a strange angle. As he sat back down on the floor, the elevator moved slightly. "That's not good," he whispered. 

He looked up at the ceiling and saw that all the glass panels were gone, with only the light bulbs remaining. He thought he could make out a hole at the top, but he wasn't sure his leg or the elevator would stand for him to get up there. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, knowing that if he had a quicksilver gland, he would be completely invisible right about now. "Aw crap," he whispered into the silence of the elevator.

TBC Thurs, Fri at the latest. School started, and now I have to catch up with the story.


	4. Part 4

Fragile Lives (4/?)

By Carol M.

See first part for details

Note: Nearly lost my muse yesterday when I read the Eberts file. Poor Vinny. I feel for him. He's such a sweetheart. Anyway, here's the next part. Sorry it took so long, but college sux! Enjoy kiddies. Woo hoo, only two hours til Mere Mortals!!!

"Darien, you need to stop. You're barely holding on," said Claire with concern as she leaned Darien against a wall.

Darien gave her an annoyed glare. "We've only gotten up one flight. We've got another to go."

Claire put her hands on her hips. "Fine. But you're sitting down and resting for a few minutes," said Claire. She reached for his arms and helped him down to a sitting position on the debris-covered floor.

Darien leaned his head against his wall, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy and labored. She noticed that his face was becoming flushed. She placed a hand against his forehead despite his attempts to shrug her off. "You're running a fever."

"I'll live," he said dryly.

"Not if you keep this up," said Claire. "Look, just rest here for awhile. I'll get up to the second floor and see where everyone is."

Darien tried to stand on his own in protest, but instead toppled back down to the ground with a muffled groan. "Fine," he said in defeat.

Claire gave him a soft caress under his jaw and then stood up. "I'll be right back," she said as she carefully made her way up the next flight, doing her best to avoid the bits of ceiling and bricks that littered the stairs. Ten minutes later, she made it up the flight, coming to stand outside the second floor door in frustration. "We've got a problem," she shouted down the stairs.

"What is it?" she heard Darien call back.

"Oh basically every material used to construct the Agency is resting against the door," said Claire as she tried to clear away some of the debris with no luck.

"Sounds like a man's job," Darien shouted back.

"Well if you find one, send him up," Claire shouted.

"Real nice, Keep, just kick me while I'm down," said Darien sarcastically. "Come back down and help me up."

"Darien…" he heard her whine.

"You need my help, Claire. What's another couple of bruises or torn muscles gonna matter?" he shouted back.

"Okay," she said with hesitation. She clamored back down the stairs, which was much easier on the way down, and reached Darien several minutes later. She grabbed one hand and put an arm around his back, slowly easing him to a standing position.

"You're pretty strong there, Claire. You been hitting the gym?" he asked as they started up the first stair.

Claire smiled and rolled her eyes. "Don't let appearances deceive you, Darien. I can kick some ass," she said as she pushed him up another stair. 

Darien's foot twisted on a brick and he came to rest hard against the stairs. "Owwww," he yelped.

"Bloody hell," said Claire as she helped him up. She noticed he had scraped his knee up pretty good, blood trickling onto the leg of his pants. "That's going to get infected," she said as she pushed him up another stair.

"Oh goody," said Darien.

Another ten minutes and two more spills later, they had reached the second floor door. "Crap, you weren't kidding," said Darien as he eyed the pile of debris in front of the door. He leaned down, with Claire supporting his every movement and began picking up some of the heavier objects. Claire did her best to keep a steady hand on Darien and assist with the cleanup, but it wasn't easy to do the two tasks at once. In the end, Darien cleared most of the debris off himself, leaving him even shakier than before.

"If we get out of this thing alive, I'm donating all my salary to rebuilding an earthquake proof Agency," said Darien as he pulled the second floor door open. What greeted them was another pile of debris, this one standing nearly halfway up Darien's chest. What also greeted them was the rather concerned face of Eberts.

"Darien? Claire?" he said.

"Ebes, man are you guys okay?" asked Darien.

"I'm okay. The Official's hurt pretty bad. He's got a bad bump on his head," he responded.

"Is Bobby with you?" asked Darien.

"No, no the Official and I got off the elevator right before the quake hit. He stayed in to go up to his office," said Eberts as he bent down and began clearing debris. Claire bent down and also helped, motioning Darien to stay away with a wave of her hand.

"Wait, so Bobby's in the elevator?" asked Darien.

"I don't know. Maybe he made it up to the floor in time, but I doubt it," said Eberts grimly.

Darien sank down to the ground, feeling nauseous and generally pretty miserable. Claire was at his side immediately. "Are you okay?" she asked with concern.

"I feel sick," he whispered, his face growing pale and sweaty. He put his head down to try to combat the urge to throw up, but it wasn't helping. He leaned to the side and threw up all over the floor. 

Claire placed her hand on his back and rubbed it in comforting circles as he started to dry heave. When he was finally finished, he brought his head back up, looking completely wiped out.

While Darien had been sick, Eberts had managed to clear away enough of the debris to get through the doorway. He stepped through the door and looked down at Darien, who wasn't looking good at all. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

Claire looked up and shook her head. "He's pushing himself too hard."

Darien shook his head and folded his arms against his legs, resting his head them and taking deep breaths to try and make himself feel better.

Claire looked up at Eberts and pointed at Darien. "Stay with him, okay. I'm going to check on the Official," she said as she let go of Darien and stood up. She squeezed through the door and ran down the hall, spotting the Official immediately.

She saw the makeshift bandage pressed against his head and muttered a curse when she saw all the blood. She carefully removed the bandage and examined the wound, determining that he had at least a concussion, if not a fracture skull. "Sir? Sir, can you hear me?" she yelled near his ear.

A low moan greeted her, but nothing else. She brushed her hand down his shoulder and then got up, running back to Darien and Eberts. "He's got a possible skull fracture. We need to get him out of here soon," she said.

"Tell us something we don't already know," said Darien in a muffled tone, his head still leaned down into his arms. "We have to get to Hobbesy."

"No, Darien, it's too dangerous, you could kill yourself," said Claire. "Let me and Albert go."

"Claire, you've got to stay with the boss. He needs you right now more than I do. Me and Eberts can do it, right Ebes?" he said, looking up at Eberts.

Eberts nodded nervously. He looked over at Claire with a scared expression. "Is the Official going to be okay?"

Claire gave him a sympathetic smile. "He's got a hard head, Eberts. I'm sure he'll be okay," she said.

"Yeah Ebes, you think the Official's going let a little thing like a head injury stop him. In a week, he'll be good as new," said Darien reassuringly. He struggled to stand up and after a few seconds Eberts had stepped forward to help him. "Thanks man," said Darien in appreciation.

Claire eyed Eberts. "If he starts hurting, I want you to bring him back down. Promise me, Albert."

Eberts nodded. "Don't worry, doctor."

Darien slapped Eberts on the shoulder. "Let's go," he said as he made his way to the stairs and nearly fell over.

Eberts stepped behind him and put a supportive hand on his back and shoulder. Slowly and carefully, they made their way up the stairs to the third floor and then to the fourth floor. By the time they reached the landing to the stairs that would take them to the fifth floor, Darien was exhausted. "I have to stop for a second," he murmured as he practically collapsed on the floor.

"Maybe I should take you back down stairs," said Eberts.

Darien shook his head harshly. "No way. Darien Fawkes doesn't bail on his partner." Darien started with surprise. "Wow, did I really just say that?"

"Yes, I believe you did," said Eberts as he joined Darien on the floor. "You know, I get jealous sometimes," he said softly.

Darien raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

Eberts nodded. "I don't really have any kind of friendship like you and Robert do. I guess the person I'm closest too is the Official, but sometimes I feel like even he can't stand me."

"Aw, hey man, you're a pretty cool guy. You know me and Hobbes just tease you cause it's what we do right. I mean we harass the crap out of each other. We do it out of love. Believe me, if we didn't love you, we wouldn't bother," said Darien.

Eberts gave him a strange glance. "Thanks. I think."

"Not a problem, buddy," said Darien. "Okay, let's go get Hobbesy. Help me up."

Eberts stood up and then pulled Darien to his feet. He helped him up the stairs to the fifth floor and both were pleasantly surprised when they discovered that the fifth floor door wasn't covered in a mound of rubble like the other doors had been. They easily scooted the debris away and opened the door.

"Hobbes? You up here, buddy?" shouted Darien.

"Robert?" yelled Eberts.

They could both hear a faint shouting. 

Darien gave Eberts a confused glance. "Where's it coming from?"

They heard another shout.

"Elevator," said Eberts.

Eberts dragged Darien to the elevator, both eyeing the elevator door with uncertainty. "How are we going to open it?" asked Darien.

"I guess push it," said Eberts. "Do you think you can do it?"

Darien nodded. "I'll try my best," he said as he grabbed at one end of the door and Eberts grasped the other. Together they managed to pull open the door to a five feet space in the middle. 

"Aw crap," moaned Darien as his back protested the exertion and he leaned against the unopened part of the door. "Hobbes?" he shouted out in a pain-filled gasp.

"Down here, Fawkes," he heard Bobby's voice respond.

"Are you okay, Robert?" shouted Eberts.

"Eberts?" shouted Bobby.

"Yeah, Robert it's me," said Eberts.

"Are you hurt, man?" asked Darien.

"My legs a little iffy and I got a whack on the head, but other than that nothing," responded Bobby.

Darien mustered the strength to bend down and look at Bobby's location. He could see the top of the elevator about 10 feet below. He could even make out Bobby sitting in the car. The elevator looked like it was sitting at an odd angle. "Ah, Hobbes, the elevators gonna collapse isn't it?"

"Yeah, that would be my guess," said Bobby.

"Right," said Darien. He glanced at Eberts. "Yeah, we got to get him out of there now."

"How?" asked Eberts.

"That's a good question," whispered Darien to himself.

TBC 


	5. Part 5

Fragile Lives (5/?)

By Carol M.

See first part for details

Note: It's easy to write when you have thoughts of a naked Darien in your head. Especially when you saw that see-through underweared ass in person : ) Enjoy the next part folks and bring out a few more ropes…

"Umm, Hobbes?" said Darien uneasily.

"Yes, Fawkes?" he heard Bobby reply in a calm voice.

Darien cleared his throat. "You think you can make it to the top of the elevator?"

Silence greeted him. "Hobbes?"

"Give me a minute here, I'm thinking," Bobby shouted back.

Darien glanced at Eberts with a look of irritation. "Great, he's thinking," he whispered.

"Hobbes, either you can or you can't. What's it going to be?"

"I guess I can try. But so help me god, Fawkes, if this elevator comes down and I go with it, I'm going to haunt you til you're dying day," shouted Bobby.

"Great," said Darien sarcastically. He took a deep breath and looked down the elevator shaft that suddenly looked much more dangerous than it had only seconds before. "Okay, uh, so here's the plan. Get up on top of the elevator and we'll pull you up."

"Great plan, Fawkes," he heard Bobby respond.

"Got any better ideas, buddy?" Darien asked with irritation.

"Just how do you propose to pull me up there, Fawkesy? I am a couple of feet away from you if you hadn't noticed," said Bobby.

Darien gave Eberts a scared glance. "Don't worry, we got it covered. Trust me."

Bobby looked around the elevator and sighed. "I do, buddy, I do," he whispered softly. "Okay, here it goes," he said uncertainly. He piled a stack of debris on the floor of the elevator, turning it into a small stepladder so his short frame could make it towards the ceiling of the elevator.

At the same time, Darien lay down on his stomach at the edge of the elevator door, Eberts grasping his feet in a firm hold. "You got me, Ebes?"

Eberts nodded confidently. "I got you."

"Okay, take me down," said Darien nervously.

Eberts slowly began lowering Darien down the elevator shaft, all the while clutching his feet so firmly that Darien was sure all the blood flow had been cut off to his lower limbs.

Bobby hauled himself through the panels of the lights uneasily, the elevator shaking and shimmying with instability. He used his arms to push himself on top of the elevator and came to rest on a panel of metal near the edge of the elevator, his sore leg barely supporting him. He could see the body of his lanky partner slowly being dangled down towards his position.

"Easy, Fawkes," said Bobby as he heard the sharp shallow breaths being gulped in by his partner. "You okay?" he asked with concern.

"Been better," said Darien through clenched teeth as he neared Bobby. "A little more Eberts," he yelled back up towards the door.

Eberts kneeled into a sitting position and then forced Darien down further.

Darien could almost clasp Bobby's hand. "Just a little more," he yelled back.

Eberts lay down on his stomach and forced his own body about halfway out the door. "That's as far as I can go Darien," he yelled.

Darien eyed Bobby uneasily. "You ready?" he asked breathlessly as sweat dripped from his brow onto Bobby's face.

"Easy, buddy, you look like you're going to pass out," said Bobby as he eyed Darien's dangling hands.

The elevator started shaking from Bobby's weight and he gave Darien a desperate stare. "I think now would be a good time."

Darien stretched out his arms and grasped Bobby's hands in his own. The elevator started to lurch down at the same moment. "Now Eberts!" he yelled.

Eberts backed up slowly, struggling against the weight of both Darien and Bobby.Darien pulled Bobby off the top of the elevator just as it gave away. The metal room fell quickly to the ground, the sounds of metal hitting metal echoing through the elevator shaft and sending bits of debris back up the shaft.

"Oh god," yelled Darien as Bobby's weight pulled hard on his aching back. "Eberts more, now!" he yelled in desperation.

Eberts backed up even more, pulling Darien and Bobby up the shaft several inches.

Bobby eyed Darien intensely, seeing the immense amount of pain his partner was in. "I'm sorry, buddy," he said softly.

"Shut up. This isn't your fault," cried Darien. "Ebes come on man, more!" he yelled out, tears of pain and frustration falling from his eyes and hitting Bobby.

Eberts gave a hard tug, which brought the pair up several more feet.

"One more like that Eberts and I'm buying you a steak dinner," yelled Bobby.

Eberts took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. "Here it goes," he said through gritted teeth.

He pulled as hard as he could, using the adrenaline racing through his veins to successfully bring Darien all the way into the door and Bobby only several inches below their position. He let go of Darien and fell back against the floor.

Darien, while relieved to once again be back on the ground, was also rapidly losing his strength. For several heart-stopping seconds, his grip on Bobby began to slip.

Bobby gave him a panicked look.

"I'm not gonna drop you, my friend," shouted Darien. He took all of his strength and heaved Bobby up to the elevator door. With one more pull, both Darien and Bobby were safely resting on the gritty tile of the fifth floor.

The trio lay panting on the ground, tired and sore and exhilarated all at the same time. Bobby's face broke out into a toothy grin. "Thanks guys, I owe you one," he said with gratitude.

Eberts slowly sat up, looking pleased and slightly surprised with himself. "I never knew I was that strong," he said cheerfully.

Bobby scooted next to him and patted him on the back. "I knew you had it in you, my friend. You might just make a good agent yet! Isn't that right, Fawkes?"

When there was no response, he glanced over at his partner who was stretched out on his stomach on the floor. "Fawkes, you okay?" asked Bobby as he scooted towards his partner. He ran a hand down Darien's back, growing more concerned by the second. "Fawkes?" he shouted urgently. 

Eberts also scooted to Darien, eyeing him with sympathy. He felt the side of Darien's neck and found his pulse to be a little weaker than it should be. "I think he passed out," said Eberts.

"He's hurt? Then why the hell did you let him get me?" asked Bobby angrily.

"We didn't really have much of a choice, Robert. The doctor had to stay with the Official because he's injured and…"

"Shut up, Eberts!" he yelled in frustration. He gently lifted Darien so he was sitting across his lap. "What's wrong with him?"

Eberts lifted up Darien's shirt and pointed to his lower back, where the red mark was already turning a deep purple. 

"Stubborn see-through punk," whispered Bobby to himself. He ran a hand through Darien's hair in a comforting gesture. "Wake up, Fawkes. Come on, pal," he said as he shook Darien.

A low moan was the only reply from Darien.

Bobby shook his head. "Where are the others? Is Claire hurt too?" he asked with concern.

"Doctor Keeply and the Official are on the second floor. The doctor is fine, but the Official has a pretty serious head injury," replied Eberts.

"What's the status on the building? How'd you guys get up here?" he asked as he stared at Darien's still form.

"Stairwell. It's blocked up, but we managed to get through," said Eberts.

"Okay, we're gonna get Fawkes back down to the Keep and the chief, and then we're gonna get out of this building," said Bobby as he put an arm under Darien's shoulder.

Eberts nodded and grabbed Darien's other arm.

Together, they hoisted Darien in the air and secured him firmly between the two of them. Despite his aching leg, Bobby ended up taking most of the weight. He looked at Eberts and nodded towards the stairwell door. "Let's go," he said.

**

"Eberts, we have to get the payroll forms sent off. Eberts, where are you?" the Official mumbled incoherently from his position on the second floor.

Claire rubbed a hand across his face. "Easy sir, you're going to be okay," she said in a comforting tone.

Eberts and Darien had been gone for nearly two hours and she was getting extremely worried. Her head snapped up when she heard muffled grunts and bumps coming from the stairwell. 

"I'll be right back," she murmured to the Official as she got up and ran to the stairwell door. She opened the door and saw Eberts and Bobby struggling with Darien. "Oh my god," she said as she ran to Eberts and Bobby and took some of Darien's weight. The trio managed to get Darien out of the stairwell and out onto the second floor. They dragged him to the Official's position and laid him carefully on the ground.

Claire was instantly at his side, checking his pulse and then examining his back. She also noticed that most of his cuts had opened back up. She lay her head against Darien's back for a moment and then glanced at Eberts and Bobby, who had collapsed next to the Official in exhaustion.

"Are you two all right?" she asked.

They both nodded.

Claire took a closer look at Bobby and saw blood trailing down his leg. "What's wrong with your leg?" she asked.

Bobby peered at his leg and shook his head. "Nothing, just a scratch."

Claire rolled her eyes and moved over to him, pushing his pants leg up to examine the wound. She saw a large bruise accompanied with a fairly deep cut. She ripped a piece of material from her shirt and wrapped it firmly around the cut. Bobby yelped and paled for a few moments afterward. She eyed his head and saw a bump, but not much else.

"How's your head?" she asked as she probed the small bruise. 

Bobby shrugged away from her. "It's okay," he said.

Claire stared into his eyes for a few moments and smiled slightly. "I'm glad you're okay," she said softly.

Bobby eyed her gently and smiled. "That makes two of us," he said as he brought her into his arms for a small hug and then kissed her on the top of her head.

A loud groan brought them out of their temporary stupor and their eyes both drifted to Darien, who appeared to be waking up.

Bobby scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand. "Buddy, you okay?" he asked with concern.

Darien rolled onto his side and looked up at him with tired eyes. "I guess your little source at Hobbesnet was…"

But he never finished the sentence. A wave of tremors suddenly drifted down the hallway and through the entire building.

"Guys!" yelled Darien in a panic.

Bobby instantly covered Darien with his own body as debris rained down on them. Claire and Eberts both dived towards the Official, doing their best to protect the boss.

The shaking swept through the whole building, further destroying furniture, supplies and the overall structure of the Agency. It also managed to clear some of the debris from the ground floor door, opening up a possible way out of the building. Further back on the floor in the Keep, chemicals that had been shaken by the first two earthquakes finally made a final descent to the floor to combine in one glorious chemical cocktail.

On the second floor, the friends and co-workers gripped one another tightly, trying to protect each other as much as possible. Bits of ceiling and glass pummeled them, but they all could tell that this was nothing compared to the previous earthquake.

After only a couple of seconds, the shaking stopped, leaving the group literally shaken, but not injured.

Bobby coughed as bits of debris found its way into his airway. He got off of Darien and sat back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Eberts and Claire also separated from the pile of warm bodies, trying to regain their air as well.

On the floor, Darien was wheezing and panting, curling into a fetal position to stop the waves of pain radiating through his body. The Official on the other hand, had once again lost consciousness, and lay quietly and peacefully on the floor.

Back in the Keep, the chemicals on the floor began reacting violently to one another, smoke gradually wafting from the fumes. Within seconds, a steady flame was radiating from the mess and drifting through the Keep at a rapid pace, destroying everything in its path and about to wreak havoc with the only possible escape route out of the building.

TBC -god I'm evil. Next part by Mon, Tues at the latest.


	6. Part 6

Fragile Lives (6/?)

By Carol M.

See first parts for details

Note: More cliffs, more ropes, nuff said. Enjoy!

"Ready, one, two, three," said Bobby as he hoisted up the Official against the wall with Claire's assistance. They got him into a sitting position and were both panting from the effort. "There's a reason we call him the Fatman," said Bobby.

The Official was still unresponsive and hence did not hear the insult.

"Okay, let's get this big boy standing," said Bobby with a determined look on his face. He glanced at Claire. "You ready?" he asked.

Claire nodded her head.

"Go!" grunted Bobby as he and Claire somehow got the Official into a standing position.

Darien clapped from his position on the floor. "Bravo, very well done."

Bobby smirked. "Just be glad your injured, my friend or it would be you helping me carry this ton of lard."

"Bobby," said Claire sharply.

"Sorry, it's the adrenaline. Gets my insulting nature working overtime," said Bobby apologetically.

Darien smiled and then looked up at Eberts. "Ready for your load, Ebes?"

Eberts nodded and pulled Darien unsteadily to his feet. 

"Okay, let's go," said Darien as he let Eberts guide him towards the stairwell door.

Bobby and Claire struggled with the weight of the Official as they followed behind Darien and Eberts. Slowly, but surely they made their way into the stairwell. Minute after minute went by as the group slowly tackled each step. About half way down the first flight, Darien's nose perked up in dread.

"Is it just me, or is it a little smoky in here?" he asked in a panicked voice.

Bobby inhaled deeply and nodded. "That's affirmative. Fire in the hole," he said with a grunt as he shifted the Official down another step.

"What do we do?" asked Darien as he rested against the wall for a moment.

"Keep going and deal with it when we come to it," said Bobby matter of factly.

"If you say so, team leader Hobbes," said Darien as he got off the wall and grabbed for Eberts' arm once again. 

The group continued down the stairs, the more progress they made, the thicker the smoke. By the time they reached the landing to the first floor stairs, they were all choking and coughing.

"Hobbes, what's the next part of your brilliant plan?" Darien said in a raw, choked voice.

They stepped down a few more steps while Bobby contemplated. After a few minutes, he gazed at them with uneasy glance. "I got an idea, but you're not gonna like it."

Claire instantly shook her head. "Bobby, there's no way!"

Darien cleared his throat and raised his hand. "Excuse me, care to clue me in here?" he asked. He looked at them both for a few seconds and then nodded his head. "Quicksilver anyone?"

"Darien, you can't, it's too dangerous," said Claire.

He glanced at his tattoo and saw only 2 segments were red. "Got enough juice," he said. "I'm thinking one or two at a time, provided of course that we can get out the front door. If we can't then we're all pretty much screwed."

"Darien…" said Claire.

"It's our only chance, Keep," said Darien softly.

"Fawkes is right, Claire," said Bobby. "Let's get as far as we can and then hope for the best," he said as he continued to guide the Official down the stairs.

They got down half a flight when they encountered the first of the flames. The fire glowed against the walls, lighting the stairwell up in an orange hue of light. 

The group coughed violently, with tears of pain streaming down their faces. 

"Let's get the boss first," yelled Darien in a hoarse voice. "I'm gonna need some help," he said as he looked at Bobby and Claire.

"You go, Keep. Get the hell out of here," said Bobby.

Claire nodded in fear and grabbed on tighter to the Official. Meanwhile, Eberts shifted Darien so Darien's hand and body were firmly grasped onto the Official.

Darien teetered as he felt the weight of the Official land on him.

"You gonna make it?" shouted Bobby.

Darien nodded with a pained expression. He gripped the Official's arm firmly and grasped Claire's hand on the other side. "Ready?"

Claire nodded.

"Okay, here we go," he said as he let the quicksilver flow over himself, Claire and the Official.

They slowly made their way down the last of the stairs, the flames blossoming around them in a glorious display of black and white. Despite the quicksilver coating, Darien and Claire were still sweating and choking, the flames threatening to take over their lungs.

It seemed to take forever, but after only a few minutes, they reached the stairwell door to the ground floor. They noticed that the rest of the hall was in flames as well. 

"Crap," yelled Darien as his body started to shake with overexertion.

He glanced towards the front door and through the flames saw that most of the debris that had been there earlier had been loosened.

"Hurry," he yelled through clenched teeth as he and Claire dragged the Official down the hall.

Claire coughed and got a better grip on the Official, trying to get to the door as quickly as possible.

When they finally reached the door, Claire let Darien take the Official and began clearing away what was left of the debris. After about a minute, she had cleared the door. She quickly got up and reclaimed her position next to the Official. The pair heaved the larger man out the door and both promptly collapsed to the ground with exhaustion and lack of oxygen, sending the body of the Official to lay sprawled out between them. The quicksilver dropped in a glorious spray of silver around their tired bodies.

Darien moaned and continued to cough, the movements sending waves of pain through his body.

Claire recovered her breath and moved towards Darien, placing a comforting hand on his back. "How are you doing?" she asked as she glanced at his wrist.

"Five red," he gasped out. "You wouldn't happen to have any counteragent with you, would you?"

Claire shook her head and gave him a scared glance. "It's in the basement."

"Of course it is," said Darien as he struggled to his feet. "We'll worry about it when I get Ebes and Hobbes out," he said as he started towards the door. "Find someone, anyone to put this fire out," he called back as he let the quicksilver flow over his body and went back in the building.

He slowly made his way through the flaming hallway, his mind and body in a numb daze of pain. By the time he made it back up the stairs to Bobby and Eberts, the fire had spread to the top of the first floor stairs.

He collapsed against the two of them in exhaustion, barely able to stand on his own.

Bobby was instantly at his side, grasping his arm and swinging it around his neck. Eberts did the same with his other arm.

Darien let the quicksilver flow over the trio and once again started down the stairs. The stairs had become incredibly unstable from the fire, and they all nearly took a spill as one of the steps literally collapsed from under them. Despite the hazardous conditions, they all continued down the stairs as carefully as possible, all the while struggling to breathe.

They reached the ground floor and raced as quickly as they could towards the exit. When they finally made it out the door into fresh air, Bobby and Eberts lay Darien gently on the ground, both taking deep breaths to get as much oxygen as possible into their pained lungs. The quicksilver scattered off them, revealing their position in a sparkle of silver.

Darien moaned from his sprawled out position on the ground. He was making a horrible wheezing sound and was clutching at his chest in a panic. 

"Fawkes!" coughed Bobby.

Darien rolled on his side and coughed. "Can't breathe!" he croaked out.

Bobby looked up and saw Claire running towards them with several fire firefighters. He could also make out the Official being placed in an ambulance. He glanced around and realized that all the surrounding buildings were pretty much destroyed. The place was crawling with police, firemen and paramedics.

"Keep, over here!" he shouted urgently.

Claire finally reached them and he realized she was carrying an oxygen tank and mask with her. She knelt down next to Darien and placed the mask over his face, trying to wipe the soot and tears from his filthy face.

Darien coughed over and over again, unable to catch his breath. Claire rolled him further onto his back and began rubbing it. "Deep breaths, deep breaths, slowly," she cried out.

Darien coughed and then tried to take deeper breaths, all the while trying to ignore the pain in his chest and another pain that was slowly building up in the back of his neck. He hacked and choked for several more minutes before he could finally taste the sweetness of the oxygen that his lungs so desperately needed. He sagged against the ground in exhaustion, his chest heaving up and down as he took in the fresh air.

As Darien calmed down, the scene surrounding the Agency picked up considerably. Fire crews immediately entered the building, armed with fire hoses to put out the flames. Paramedics carrying bandages and other supplies swarmed around Darien, Bobby, Claire and Eberts, trying to treat their wounds. Police loomed in the distance, trying to control the chaos.

After a few minutes of treatment, Darien pushed the oxygen mask off his face and began tugging at Claire's arm.

"What is it?" she asked with concern.

"Counteragent," he panted, holding up his wrist. At that moment, his body was suddenly wracked with tremors, forming a mini-earthquake within his lanky form.

"Fawkes!" shouted Bobby with worry as tried to struggle out of the grip of the paramedic treating him.

"Oh no," said Eberts, who was looking at Darien with an expression of dread on his face.

The paramedic who was treating Darien stood up in a panic at the start of the tremors. "We need a stretcher over here!" he shouted to his fellow paramedic cronies.

"No, no, he's okay. I'm his doctor," said Claire as she shrugged away from the paramedic treating her and ran to Darien's side. The attack began to ease and Darien's body gradually sagged against Claire in relief.

"Easy, easy," she murmured in his ear.

"I have to get the counteragent," he whispered as he struggled to get up.

"Darien, let one of the rescuers do it," said Claire.

"No time," said Darien as he finally stood on his own two feet, despite a look of absolute agony on his face. He gave Claire a fierce look. "Where is it?"

Claire sighed in fright and disapproval. "Basement 2, room 1. Safe combo is 4-23-12."

"No way, Fawkes!" shouted Bobby as he pushed the paramedic who had been treating him away and stood up. "The building's going to come down any second, buddy. Let someone else do this."

"I'm not gonna let some innocent person die because of me," said Darien as he started for the building.

Bobby was instantly behind him and pulling him back. "Fawkes, this is stupid, you're gonna get yourself killed."

"Well, at least I can go to the grave knowing I didn't take anyone else with me," said Darien softly. He sped up his heart rate and within moments he was invisible.

"Damn it, Fawkes," yelled Bobby in frustration as he swiped at a body that was no longer there. He ran towards the smoking building, but was abruptly stopped by the fire chief.

"Sorry, sir, you can't go in there, it's too dangerous," said the weary-looking older man.

"My partner just went in there," said Bobby quickly.

"What partner? I didn't see anyone," said the fire chief in confusion.

"Trust me, he's in there. Now you can either clear a path for me or you can have a nice little chat with the President tomorrow," said Bobby.

"You have no authority," said the fire chief.

"My partner's in there. That gives me all the authority I need," said Bobby firmly as he shoved past the fire chief. He saw that the fire was pretty much out with only a few smoky reminders drifting through the hall. He ran towards the stairwell door and then tore down the steps to the basement, taking care not to trip on any of the debris. He reached basement two several minutes later and dashed into room 1. He saw that the safe was open with the equipment and ingredients for the counteragent still tucked inside. Darien was laying next to the safe in a shocked daze, an empty syringe of counteragent at his side. Blood trickled down Darien's arm from the injection and Bobby could tell that giving himself the shot must have been a hard struggle between Darien's sane and insane self.

"Hobbes," moaned Darien. "Get the hell out here," he said as the effects of the counteragent started to subside.

The room suddenly began to creak and groan. "Hobbes," said Darien in a panic.

That was when another wave of tremors tore through the building. The two partners held onto each other as debris once again began to rain down around them. The entire ceiling of the room was about to go and both were trying their hardest to shakily make their way out of the room. 

Darien's eyes shot up in a panic as he saw the ceiling directly above Bobby bend in a way no piece of metal or concrete ever should. His body reacted and he gave Bobby a hard shove, sending Bobby sprawling out onto the floor of the hallway.

But it was too late for Darien. The ceiling caved in on him, along with most of the equipment, bricks and insulation from the floor above. Darien was smacked onto the floor and covered in a pile of debris. And then once again, everything was silent.

TBC-hehehehe, tomorrow.


	7. Part 7

Fragile Lives (7/7)

By Carol M.

Small spoiler for BK in this one

Note: We've reached the end once again. Thanks for all the kind words guys, hoped you enjoyed this one. Up next, a lighter D/C/B fic, maybe another DS fic, maybe another standalone. Still holding out hope for saving the show. I'm not really sure how the show "ending" will effect my ability to write. I guess we will have to wait and see. Anyway, enjoy the last part!

Bobby stared in horror at the pile of rubble that now occupied the same space that his partner had been standing in only moments before. Now there was no sign of his partner except for the toes of his sneakers peaking out from a mountain of debris.

Bobby's eyes glazed over for several seconds and then they cleared, realization hitting him in the face like a Mac truck.

"Darien," he said softly as he picked himself off the ground and began clawing at the debris entombing his friend. "I'm gonna get you out, I'm gonna get you out," he murmured hysterically over and over again as the form of his partner slowly became visible.

"Fawkes," he whispered in dismay when he saw Darien's face. It was covered in a sticky mix of blood and soot, marring his facing features and turning his normally handsome face into something out of a horror movie.

Bobby began wiping off Darien's face with his shirt, his own tears aiding as a cleaning solution.

"Please don't be dead, buddy," he whispered as he felt Darien's filthy neck for a pulse. His heart leapt with relief when he found one. It was very weak and slow, but it was there. And that was good enough for Bobby Hobbes. "Help!" he began screaming as loud as he could possibly muster. 

He looked back at his partner and shook his head in anger. "You son of a bitch," he cried out as he grasped Darien's bloody hand. "Why the hell did you do that, Fawkesy? God, you're so freakin' selfish!" he screamed as he pressed his head gently against Darien's chest.

"You're not supposed to save me, partner. I'm supposed to save you, my friend. My friend, my friend. Crap Fawkes, you're the only real friend I've ever had. I love you buddy," he said with tears streaming down his face.

He felt Darien's hand tighten slightly around his own. "Aw crap, buddy, hang on for me. Hang the hell on! Help! Help us!" screamed Bobby.

"Anyone down here?" he heard a voice yell off in the distance. To Bobby it sounded like the voice of God himself.

"Down here! My partner needs help!" he shouted urgently. "Get someone down here now!"

Bobby glanced back at his partner who looked so helpless and vulnerable. Like a child. Like the way he had looked that morning before Bobby had woken him up. He pulled Darien into his arms, not even caring if it hurt him, just wanting to feel his partner in his arms to ensure he was still alive.

Several minutes passed by as they waited for the rescue workers. It felt like a lifetime to Bobby. Darien moved slightly in his arms, moaning softly. He looked like he was trying to open his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Fawkes, you're gonna be okay. Hang on just a few more minutes, man," said Bobby as he pressed his face against Darien's hair for a moment.

Darien's eyes fluttered open and then shut again. "You should have let me sleep in," he whispered so softly Bobby had to bend down over his mouth to hear him.

"Now what fun would that be?" said Bobby with a slight smile. "So are you dying or can we skip the whole touching speech between partners thing, buddy?"

"Hmm, not sure yet," whispered Darien.

Bobby started running his fingers through Darien's hair. "You're such a bastard," he said simply.

"Why, for saving your ass?" whispered Darien. "You're worth a lot more than you'll ever know Bobby."

"What about you, huh? You're my best friend. What the hell do you think I'll do without you?" said Bobby tearfully.

"You'll survive," whispered Darien. He swallowed painfully and then opened his eyes to look at Bobby. "If this is it, then I just wanted to let you know that… you know, I love you and you're my best friend too. Tell Claire I love her and tell Ebes and the boss that they're pretty cool too."

"Don't you do that to me, Fawkes. Don't you say goodbye. This isn't goodbye. You can't leave me. You can't leave us. The Agency would go under without you," said Bobby.

"Look around, Hobbesy, I'd say the Agency is pretty much screwed already," said Darien in a choked whisper. "This life was never mine, Hobbes. I was never supposed to be here."

"Yeah well, whether you like or not, this is your life, pal. You do belong here. You belong with all us, we're your family. You saved all of us today, D," said Bobby.

"No," murmured Darien as his eyes drifted shut.

Bobby nudged him. "Don't you close your eyes. You're more stubborn than this. Fight damn you, fight!"

"I can't," muttered Darien.

"If you can't do it for yourself, then do it for me. Hell, do it for Claire. Or your brother even," whispered Bobby.

"My brother never cared about me, Hobbes," whispered Darien.

"You would be surprised, my friend. Turns out Darien and Kevin Fawkes have a lot more in common than you might think. I should know, I was partners with the both of you," said Bobby.

Darien shook his head slightly and then relaxed into Bobby's lap. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"No! No! No! I told your brother I would look out for you, that I would protect you. I won't let you die!" shouted Bobby. But there was no response from Darien.

"Fawkes?" he said as he started violently shaking Darien. "Wake up, wake up, wake up," he cried out.

It was then that he heard steps and voices of rescuers filling the halls. "In here, now!" shouted Bobby in a panic.

He was greeted with the concerned faces of several paramedics carrying a stretcher and other equipment. Claire was right behind them, looking frantic and extremely worried.

Her eyes sparkled with tears when she saw Darien and she instantly knelt by his side, taking his pulse. "No pulse!" she shouted to one of the paramedics.

Bobby clutched Darien tighter as if somehow his touch alone could bring Darien back to life.

"Bobby, you have to let go of him so we can work on him," said Claire with tears trickling down her cheeks.

Bobby nodded hesitantly and gently rolled Darien off of his body. He watched in a daze as the paramedics tried to revive his fallen partner. He watched Claire hook him up to various machines and try to shock him back to life. He could do nothing but watch as his partner's body lay cold and lifeless on the floor.

"Still no pulse. It might be too late," said one of the paramedics as he measured Darien's vitals.

It was if those words brought Bobby into action. He got on his feet and then stepped to his partner. He took Darien's hand and squeezed it so tightly he was sure he had probably broken it. "Live," he said softly. 

Claire eyed Bobby intensely and then backed away from the paramedics, handing over the defibrillator to one of the other rescuers. She knelt down on the opposite side of Darien and took his other hand, squeezing it into her own. "Don't leave us, Darien. You saved us, now let us save you," she whispered through tears.

"Oh my god," they heard a voice say from the hall. They turned around to see Eberts standing there, watching with horror as the paramedics worked on Darien. He stood awkwardly for a few seconds, not really knowing what to do. Then he shuffled into the room and knelt down near Darien's head. He reached out and placed his hand firmly on Darien's shoulder. 

"See buddy, we're all here," said Bobby as he continued to hold Darien's hand. "Now what do you say you cut the dramatics out and live for us, my friend," he pleaded.

And then they heard it, words so sweet that Bobby nearly passed out in relief. "We've got a pulse."

Eight days later

Bobby flipped through the Philosophy Now magazine he had purchased for Darien in a bored daze. He had no idea how his partner could read this crap. 

He set down the magazine and glanced at the still form of his partner. He was in a white hospital bed, his skinny frame covered in bandages. Machines were hooked up to various parts of his anatomy, spouting off annoying beeps that drove Bobby crazy. Darien had been taken off a ventilator several hours earlier and was expected to wake up sometime in the next day or two. 

The doctors had commented over and over again about Darien's remarkable recovery. "We've never seen someone with such a will to live before," one of the doctors had said after he had come out of Darien's surgery.

Bobby had simply shaken his head and smiled. "You don't know what a stubborn punk my partner is," he had told the doctor.

Darien was going to okay and that was all that mattered. He was hurt, severely hurt, but he would live and get better. And Bobby thanked everyone he could think of for that fact.

Claire had been acting as Darien's nurse, giving him medicine, feeding him and obsessing over his health. The counteragent supplies had been salvaged from the rubble, so she had set up a lab in the hospital to make the counteragent until the Agency could find another temporary location for an office building. The remnants of the old Agency were already being cleared away and would soon be rebuilt, although Bobby wasn't sure where the money would come from. He hoped it wouldn't come out of his paycheck.

The Official had woken up two days after the disaster. He was diagnosed with a severe concussion and could not remember the actual earthquake. He had been surprised and devastated when he learned what Darien had done and what had happened to him. The Official had been released several days earlier, but had returned every night to visit his fallen agent. Bobby had even caught the Official crying at Darien's bedside the night before. It was nice to know that even the cold-hearted Official could care about someone like Darien.

Eberts had been running back and forth between Darien and the Official, running errands for Claire and trying to organize Agency business for the Official. But he always found the time to visit Darien every single morning.

Bobby had spent the previous week and a half with his partner, reading him books and engaging in one-sided conversations with him. He wanted Darien to know that he wasn't alone, that someone was right there next to him waiting patiently for him to return to the land of living. It was the least he could do.

A soft groan made Bobby start in his chair. He was instantly off his feet and at Darien's side. "Fawkes, you gonna wake up?" he asked as he grabbed onto Darien's hand.

Darien's eyes fluttered several times, opened and then widened when he saw Bobby only inches away from his face. "Oh great, I'm in hell aren't I?" he whispered, the sarcasm spilling through the hoarseness of his tone.

Bobby poured a glass of water from a pitcher next to the bed and brought it up to Darien's lips. Darien took several swallows and then nodded his head. "Thanks."

"How you doin', partner?" asked Bobby.

"I've been better," replied Darien honestly.

"Yeah well, we almost lost you there, my friend. Scared the hell out of me and Claire, not to mention Eberts," said Bobby.

Darien's lips curled into a smile. "Sorry," he said softly. "I went for a few minutes there, didn't I?"

"Yeah," muttered Bobby.

"I felt you guys pull me back," he whispered.

"Well we kind of like having you around. Life is much more interesting with you in it, my friend," said Bobby. He cleared his throat and then stood up, letting go of Darien's hand. "I should get the Keep and tell her you're awake."

"Not for much longer," said Darien as his eyes drifted shut.

Bobby watched Darien for a few minutes, thinking he had fallen asleep. He stepped to his partner and kissed him on the forehead. "Thanks for saving my life, buddy," he whispered.

He stepped away from the bed and started walking out the door. Then the voice of his partner stopped him in his tracks.

"Thanks for saving mine," he heard Darien mutter in a half-asleep tone.

Bobby smiled and then strutted happily out the door.

That's All Folks

(Anybody interested in reading a sequel to this one? Darien's recovery and the rebuilding of the Agency?)


End file.
